But maybe, the way Viven saw it… “I think I did. I’ll talk to her.” Because, well, the look on Vivien’s face when she’d cut the scene short said everything her words didn’t. The way she’d blinked, set her jaw, bolted for the car.
Beth nodded. “I should go. I’ll see you at rehearsal tonight?”
“Absolutely. Thank you for coming by to help me. I’m a little stressed about getting this all done in time. Theater isn’t my thing.”
She nodded, her eyes not meeting his. “Any time.” She snagged her purse and keys from the coffee table. “Bye.”
Even though Boone walked her out, he couldn’t escape the gnawing in his gut. Somehow, by trying to do the right thing, he’d upset both women.
He found his keys and got into his car.
Boone knocked on Vivien’s door ten minutes later.
The door opened and Vivien stood there in yoga pants and a faded U of M Bulldogs T-shirt, a half-empty carton of ice cream in her hands.
“What do you want?” Her words garbled across the ice cream she licked off the spoon.
“Can I come in?”
She swallowed. Smiled. Slick and fake and obvious to him. “Now’s not a good time.” She moved to close the door.
He stuck the toe of his shoe on the sill before she could close it. “Viv, please? What’s going on?”
She wouldn’t look at him. Just kept spooning ice cream.
“Can we talk?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“I think there is.”
“Fine.” She retreated into the house and he entered behind her, closing the door. She flopped on the couch and studied the hem of her T-shirt, poking a finger through a worn hole before grabbing her spoon for another bite.
He looked at the vat of ice cream she was polishing off. “So, this is what a Double-Chocolate Brownie Batter Hurricane day looks like?”
She licked the spoon, looked up at him. “Yep.” She returned to scooping double-chocolate from the carton.
Not only was she dressed down in her stretchy pants and worn tee, but her hair hung in wild waves around her face like she’d changed in a hurry. Scrubbed her face. Her eyes had been stripped of the debutante-length lashes and she looked…incredible. Unadorned and soft and natural.
She took his breath away.
He swallowed, rubbed his hands together. “Look, Viv, I don’t understand what you want. You’re the one who begged me to take the lead. Got me singing these crazy songs.”
“I know.” She finished another spoonful and licked the spoon.
“I’m only doing it for you.”
She scraped the carton, apparently after every last dribble, before pointing the spoon at him. “You’re not supposed to be good at it.”
Um. Okay. “What are you talking about? Why would you not want me to be good at it? You want me to make a fool of myself more than I already am?”
She narrowed a glare at him. “Well, I don’t want you to need to practice. Not outside of my rehearsals.” She tossed the spoon into the empty carton and carried them to the kitchen.
“How can we be good if we don’t practice?”
She came back into the living room and faced him, put her hands on her hips. “You shouldn’t practice with her.”
She stood so close, he could smell her jasmine. And a touch of citrus. Lemon? And the worn cotton of her faded shirt hugged her curves just so. The woman was going to drive him completely crazy.
“I’m pretty sure I need to practice.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to a loose lock of sable hair and letting it slide between his fingertips.
She cleared her throat. “I don’t think so. In fact, from what I saw, you need to stop being so good at it.”
“Why’s that?”
She wrinkled her nose, looked up at him. “It looks too—too—believable. That’s why.”
And maybe that kiss on the shoreline wasn’t an accident. Maybe she’d thought about it too. “And that’s not good?” His eyes flicked to her lips and back. Her perfect, full, unpainted pink lips.
“No.” Her words came out a soft whisper.
He cupped her jaw in his hand, let his fingertips graze her silky skin. “How will I memorize my lines?”
“I think I know someone who could help.” Her breath fanned his neck and she licked her lips, looked up at him. Her luminous eyes held his. “You know, if you really need it.” She laid her hand on his arm, the heat of it lighting a fire through him.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, a smile on her lips.
“I’m certain I’ll need practice on some parts.”
“I’m sure you will.” She swallowed.
And the chaos of emotions rooted him in place. “You know, Beth’s a really nice girl.”
Vivien narrowed her gaze at him.
“But she’s not you. And, well, there’s something about you I find a little unforgettable.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m a mess.”
“Maybe I like messes.”
She pressed closer to him. “I’m told I’m complicated. Dramatic. High-maintenance.”
“I know the truth.”
Her eyes twinkled. “What’s that?”
“That’s all the role you play. The one you think people expect.”
She shook her head. “That’s not true.”
“You don’t even realize it—it isn’t your physical beauty everyone falls for, Viv. I mean, yes, you’re a knockout. And I particularly like this look on you better than any I’ve seen. But you shine from the inside out. That’s why people love you. It isn’t what you do, what you wear, how you perform. It’s your personality. Your heart.” And maybe that’s what he was falling a little in love with too.
Except, suddenly, tears rolled down her cheeks and splattered onto her T-shirt.
She swallowed, wiped her hands across her face. “Boone Buckam, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
He thumbed fresh tears from her cheeks. “It wasn’t supposed to make you cry.”
She held out a hand. “I’ve had my heart broken a few too many times.”
“I’m not going to break your heart. I was just trying to help you out—do a good job for you. That’s all. In the play. Investigating the case.” Now was probably not the time to tell her what he’d discovered about her half sister.
She reached out and drew her hand along his jawline, sending radiating waves of heat from her touch. Looked up at him again.
And, oh, shoot. He could get lost in those eyes.
He reached for her hand on his cheek and brushed his lips across her fingertips before weaving his fingers into her own and drawing her against himself.
Her body molded against his and he leaned down to kiss her. Captured her lips. Slow and sweet and, yes, even tender.
She answered his kiss, her lips soft and responsive.
And then she moaned and set his entire body on fire. He deepened the kiss and she returned it with the same heat.
This. This was what he needed. To just let go like a free fall into something heavenly.
Yes. She tasted exactly like a chocolate hurricane.
Nothing in his life had ever come close to the way Vivien felt in his arms. And when she twined her arms around his neck, he had to force himself to pause. Take a breath. Because more than the raw power of desire, there was the startling realization that he could fall—really fall—for her.
But he had a job. A life. A plan. In Kellogg.
He broke away from the kiss. “I’m—I—I should, um, go.”
Vivien’s eyes held his, big and bright and glassy. A smile quirked the corner of her lips.
Yeah, because he still held her tight against himself, the heat of their bodies an inferno between them. He’d made zero movement to actually leave.
Because nothing had felt so right in his life in, well, maybe ever.
Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I
have called you by name, you are mine.
And maybe the only one holding him back from his future was himself. Embrace the life you have.
He swallowed, loosened his hold. “I, uh, I—”
“Shh…” She placed a finger over his lips. “Don’t you dare apologize unless you’re sorry.”
Oh boy. He shook his head. “No. Definitely not sorry.”
Her eyes moved to his lips and he kissed her again. He drank her in, held her close against himself, until they paused and she rested her cheek against his neck, burrowed in between his shoulder and his jaw.
Like she belonged there.
Chapter 12
Vivien set down the park bench she’d wrestled from the playhouse storage room and stared at the hodgepodge of lumber, paint, and props scattered across the stage. Adam had come by with Adrian and roughed out the larger set pieces. Now, if she could just win Gordy over, there was a chance the Creative Arts Committee he chaired might be willing to select her community shows for their new grant program.
Vivien had felt undeserving of the grace Beth had shown her when she’d given her a big hug and smile at Monday night’s rehearsal, assuring her all was well. Now, with two rehearsals behind the cast, Vivien felt like she had an Oscar line-up.
“I’m here!” Ree stormed through the door. “And I brought backup!” Behind her, Issy and Mona followed, dressed for a work party in T-shirts and well-worn jeans.
“Put us to work!” Mona stood facing the stage, her hands on her hips.
Vivien grinned. “You all are amazing!” She held up a bucket of paint. “Anyone ready to make a splash?”
“Oh, clever.” Ree snagged up two new rollers and handed one to Issy. “I’m too wired for detail work, so you need to give me wide open spaces to paint.”
“Just don’t add any glitter.” Vivien pointed at Ree.
“What’s wrong with a little sparkle? Megan agrees with me—a little sparkle is good.”
“Sparkle, huh?” Issy pulled the plastic wrapper off her roller.
“Yes.” Vivien rolled her eyes. “She’s been talking to Megan about wedding plans.”
“Ooh…?” Mona grinned.
Ree held up a hand. “No—don’t ask. We haven’t set the actual date yet.”
“One of these days, you’re going to have to put it on the calendar.” Vivien laughed. “Here’s the scoop. Gordy said he’d be coming by to take a look at what we’re up to. There’s a new grant available through the Creative Arts Committee. If we can win him over, it would help fund future productions.”
She pointed to the paint cans. “Okay, ladies, pop open the green and brown, and you can paint the base layers on the trees Adam built for us. Oh, actually, Ree, do you want to take those lamps out back with Mona and spray-paint them gray?” Vivien pointed to a pair of neon pink lamp stands at the edge of the stage. “The paint cans are already out back.”
“Certainly.” Ree and Mona grabbed the lamps and disappeared.
“Okay, I’m pretty sure I can handle this.” Issy poured green paint into a pan and worked her roller into it. “It’s been a while since anyone has trusted me with a paint roller.” She laughed. “I saw Boone down at the field.”
“Oh?” Vivien grabbed a brush and popped open a small can of dark-green paint.
“Am I mistaken or does that man have a new spring in his step?” Issy began covering a large swath of tree with green and cast a glance at Vivien.
Well, if he did, he wasn’t the only one. They’d spent the past two evenings together before rehearsal.
She’d asked him questions about growing up in Kellogg. His time in the Army.
The man had heart. Oh, so much heart.
And at the end of each night, they’d watched the sunset. The first night on the shoreline. The next night at his cabin. He’d even agreed to an Audrey Hepburn marathon. They’d started with Breakfast at Tiffany’s and ended with My Fair Lady.
Standing on his deck with him, she’d wanted to soak it in. Hold on to it.
The sunset had turned the sky pink and orange with dark purple striations of wispy clouds. And he’d tucked her against himself when the breeze took the night from summer heat to a dusky chill.
Always a gentleman. A protector. The kind of man who showed up. Jumped in. And didn’t let her down.
“Yes, he does.” Issy answered her own question. “And he stayed late talking to Caleb about something.” She filled her roller with more paint. “Maybe…you?”
“Oh, I’m sure it was about the blue-and-white scrimmage.” Vivien began swirling darker green into the wet paint Issy had rolled onto the wood, blending in random areas to add dimension to the tree.
Issy returned to the tree and made several broad strokes. “So, are you two officially a couple now?”
A couple? Were they? Because he only had three-and-a-half weeks left in Deep Haven. And then what?
She set her brush down. “I—I don’t know.” She found Boone to be incredible. Amazing. Thrilling.
And that terrified her.
Issy took one look at her and put her roller back in the tray. “Oh, Viv. You look petrified.” She reached out and wrapped Vivien in a hug. “Can I give you one piece of advice?”
Vivien nodded in Issy’s arms.
“Don’t let fear rule your heart.”
“Right.” Except—well, trust didn’t come naturally to her.
“I know that’s easier said than done, but you—”
“Wait a minute!” Ree and Mona came around the corner. “We were not advised that there was a group hug going on.” Ree dropped the cans of paint into the supply bucket and ran over, wrapping her arms around the pair. “Is this what you’ve been up to while we’ve been slaving away?”
“You’re entirely too cheeky. If you’re not careful, I’m going to lock you out of the house.” Vivien gave Ree a wink before unwrapping herself and picking up her paintbrush.
The playhouse door swung open and she looked up, hoping it might be Boone arriving from football practice.
Instead, Sabrina waltzed in.
Sabrina, in her Louboutin heels, what appeared to be a Gucci skirt, and a heavy scowl that pinched the corners of her lips.
Vivien set down her paintbrush once more. “What are you doing back here again?”
“I was told I’d find you here.” Sabrina snapped out the words as she walked over to Vivien. “I just came to give you a warning. Stay out of my business.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know who you’re paying to snoop around in my life, but I assure you, I can buy a much better attorney than you can. So, butt out. Or else.” She poked a finger into Vivien’s chest before turning and leaving just as fast as she’d arrived.
The door slammed shut. Vivien blinked.
They all stood in stunned silence until Ree put a hand on her shoulder. “What in the world was that about?”
“Who was that?” Mona came to stand beside her.
Issy took a step toward the door. “Umm…should I lock the door? Call Caleb? Boone? Kyle?”
“No. It’s okay,” Vivien answered. She turned to Mona. “She’s my half sister. We’re not close.”
“Apparently not,” Mona said. “Are you okay?”
Vivien nodded. “I’m fine. I think she’s just a little hot about an investigation Boone and Kyle are working on.”
She’d never really thought Sabrina would be the one sending the flowers, but now she wasn’t so sure. Something had her furious enough to drive from the Cities for a mid-week meltdown.
“Your half sister?” Mona’s eyes held the questions she wasn’t asking.
“It’s a story for another time.” Vivien shook away the lingering ice Sabrina had left in her wake. “We need to get moving on these before Gordy arrives. That man is notorious for crashing a party early.”
“Right,” Ree said. “The lamps are drying out back. We can get going on this other set of trees.”
Forty min
utes later, the playhouse door opened again, this time filled by Gordy’s stout frame. Vivien had wholly underestimated the amount of time it would take to get the painting done. Of course, she hadn’t planned on Sabrina’s interruption, or the fact that she’d had to run to get more paint from the hardware store. Twice.
And now, she felt like the entire future of Deep Haven community theater relied on the mercy of the frowning man who was pacing around the stage like a state building inspector.
Don’t let fear rule your heart.
“We just got started on the set building, but it’s coming along well.” She pointed to several more half-finished pieces. “We’ll be working on those the rest of the week. And, of course, you’re welcome to come watch rehearsals.”
“Hmm.” He rubbed his jaw, looking at their sets before walking behind the curtains. “Hmm.”
Vivie exchanged glances with Ree, Mona, and Issy, who now wore paint splatters from head to toe.
What did “hmm” mean?
He finally popped out from the curtains. “I hope you’ll be clearing the wood stack from where it’s blocking the emergency exit.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” Vivien nodded.
“Now.”
“On it!” Ree, Mona, and Issy disappeared.
“What do you think?” Vivien tried not to pour too much hope into the question.
“Well, let’s see how the show turns out.” With that, he dismissed her. Walked right out the door without any indication that she might be able to secure the grant.
A man could get used to Friday nights like this. Boone grabbed a blanket from the trunk of his car while Vivien tugged a box of pom-poms out. Add to that the all clear on the echocardiogram results given by his doctor and he was feeling fairly bulletproof.
When he’d stopped by to pick up Vivien, she’d stepped out in the blue cashmere sweater. It brought out the blue in her eyes, the softness of her face. And a little bit of him stopped caring who won the game tonight.
“Do we need both boxes?” Boone pointed to the second box still in the trunk.
“Issy said just bring one for now.”
“Well, in that case—I’ll trade you.” Boone lifted the box from her arms and handed her the blanket.
Then Came You Page 19